Stories of the Living
by Someonesomewhere13
Summary: After escaping another group, Riley Warner finds herself in the woods, surviving with her little brother. Completely alone. Or so she thinks. Chapters and snippets from how I imagine by OC would interact with the prison group, particularly Daryl Dixon. Starts in Season 3, but I've changed around the timeline, leaving much to the imagination. Reviews are welcomed!
1. Chapter 1

I crouched there in the hollow root, blocking the shallow cave with my body. Sawyer was curled up behind me, fast asleep in the dirt. He was good at keeping quiet, learned quickly for such a little kid. It must have been half an hour since the herd passed, but I wasnt going to risk it until I was sure.

The sun was high in the sky when I cautiously poked my head out from our poor excuse for a shelter. Sawyer was still sleeping, and I wanted him to stay that way for as long as possible. Sleep was the only escape from this shitshow, and it was hard enough to come by as it was. I stood and then froze, listening. I could have sworn…

"Hey."

A low voice made me spin around, but before I could do anything more a crossbow was pointed between my eyes . My heart stopped in my throat, and I cursed myself for being so careless. My knife was in my belt, and from the looks of this guy he wouldnt hesitate to loose that arrow if I did so much as flinch. He was filthy, how old I didn't know. Black unkept hair, hung in front of his eyes, and he sported a ragged leather vest.

Who you with, girl" He said, his voice low.

I didn't answer, trying to think. He was strong, much stronger than me. I could run, I could lead him away.

"I said, who you with?" He was circling down the slope, crossbow held up eye level. if he took 3 more steps he would see Sawyer. "Are you with the governor? Speak up!"

There was a whimper. Sawyer was awake.

"What the- " the man glanced behind me, and his eyes grew wide.

In one move I thew myself in front of my brother, blocking the mans view.

"I aint with no governor, so you best leave us alone" I hissed from where I crouched.

His bow was lowered. I couldn't read his face, but his voice was shocked. "that your kid? How'd you get here?"

"None of your damn business." I could feel Sawyer cowering at my back, quiet as a mouse. My heart was bounding against my ribs.

He cursed, then he said softly, "I've got a place, its safe. Theres other people, some kids. There's good people."

I didnt say anything, I didnt trust him. I couldn't risk both our lives-

A moan sounded from up the ridge, followed by another and the breaking of branches. lots of branches. The dead were coming.

His head jerked up, eyes searching the trees. "Cmon!" He urged, "we gotta get him out, No time!"

I didnt have a choice, I turned to Sawyer and lifted him into my arms, the man had already grabbed by pack and swung it over his shoulder with his own, crossbow raised but his time at whatever was on its way over the ridge. "Go." He huffed, and I ran, Sawyers' arms wrapped tightly around my neck, and I could hear him follow right behind me.

We ran through the trees, jumping over fallen branches with the wind stinging my eyes and hurting my lungs. My breath came in short ragged gasps, but it didnt matter. nothing mattered but the silent child I clutched in my arms. on and on we went, until something caught my foot and I fell with a cry, turning myself so I landed hard on my back and not on my brother. Instantly our dark shadow grabbed me by the arm and righted me again, and on we ran.

We reached a river, and he grabbed by shoulder, stopping me.

"Weve lost em. This way now." He started down the bank, moving west.

I followed cautiously, trying to catch my breath.

He seemed rough. His group was undoubtedly the same. I saw a pattern of angel wings on the back of his vest, and bit back a scoff. Sarcasm was alive and well, it would seem. I debated making a break for it. No. We wouldn't get far. And he had my pack. Trusting him was the only option.

We walked for what must have been two or three miles before he spoke, back still to me.

"How many walkers you killed?"

What sort of a dumbass question was that? This nightmare had started long ago.

"Stopped taking count a long time ago."

"How many people?" His voice had a redneck twang to it. No surprise there.

"Many as I had to."

That didnt seem to satisfy him. He looked over his shoulder at me, eyes dark. "How many."

Why the fuck not. "4" I spat out. Returning the glare, which he dropped.

"Why?"

"I did what needed doing."

He grunted in response and ducked under a low hanging branch.

"big number for a girl so young."

"Like I said, did what needed doing." I shifted my brother in my arms. Whether he was asleep or not I didnt know. Being scared kept him still, probably why he was still alive.

...

A prison. chain linked fence and tall grey walls, with a field of grass enclosed between them. It was a fortress. No dead- heck no living either- could get in there without a say so.

He nodded in its direction, and slide down the ravine in front of us, where he turned and held up his arms expectantly.

"The kid" he said.

I shook my head. "Im fine,"I hissed. I was not letting go of him.

He shrugged and sat back watching. I shifted the wide eyed child to my hip, and grabbed on to a protruding root to my right, slowing myself as I slid down the red earth. I followed him now, as we made our way to his so called safe haven. Praying to God it wasnt a trap.

As we came up to the front I heard a voice from one of the watchtowers, I couldn't see who from. Then a door opened and two figures made their way to the gate, both with rifles up to their shoulders. I stopped.

"s' alright." He turned to me, hand extended like he was trying to calm a skittish horse. "name?"

"Riley." I stated. carefully not to show the fear inside. Sawyer had his face buried into my neck.

He nodded. "Daryl." He said gruffly, "we haven't got all day."

I nodded and followed. As we got closer he called out "Rick! I got us some new people!"

The taller figure I could see now was a man in a once-white t shirt, dark hair. He lowered his gun and said something to a smaller asian man beside him, who ran back into the foot of the guard tower. Rick slid the gate open greeted Daryl with a clasp of the hand as we entered, then turned his attention to me.

"Did you ask her?" he said, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and obvious distrust.

Daryl grunted in response.

"I'm Rick", he said softly, extending his hand.

I didn't accept it, I had nothing left, needing both my arms for Sawyer. I hadn't realize how tired I was, I couldn't remember the last time Id eaten.

"This' Riley." Daryl offered gruffly. "Found her and her boy past the river, right in a herds path."

The tower door opened again and a woman nearly fell out, breathing hard. She looked maybe a couple years older than me, short brown hair framing her shocked face when she saw Sawyer in my arms. "Oh my lord…"

Their faces were starting to swim in front of me. It struck me then how still Sawyer had been, but I could still feel his breath against my neck. "My brother, he hasn't eaten. Please, could..." The world was spinning, spots danced in front of my eyes, and I could feel strong arms catch me before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey lovely readers! Just wanted to say thanks for all the follows and favourites :)**

 **Not all of my chapters will continue directly from where the previous left off, but this one does.**

 **This chapter is a bit slower than the last, with a lot of internal monologue from Riley. My goal is to get the basics down on how she, and Sawyer, are welcomed into the group.** **I've set it before the first attack of the governor, and stretched out the timeline just a bit so Riley has some time to find her place before stuff really starts happening. Hope you like it, happy reading!**

* * *

When I woke up I was lying in a bunk, and It took me a moment to realize where I was. But then it all came rushing back, and I sat up, reaching beside me for the small figure that was always there-

"Hush now," I turned, panicked, to see a woman with short silvery hair and a motherly face reaching out to me from a chair beside the bed, "You're alright"

"My brother, " I gasped, "Where-"

"Shhh its alright, he's fine. Here, slowly..." She took me by the arm and helped me stand, guiding me to the doorway of the small dark room we were in and pushing back the curtain that covered it.

As I stepped out into the light, I could see what must be the inside of a prison cell. Concrete floor and walls, with few people scattered about, all who stopped to stare. But I had eyes only for Sawyer, and I soon found him. A young girl had him on her lap, showing him a stuffed giraffe. His expressionless face lit up as he saw me, and he slipped off and hurried towards me with hands outstretched, I knelt to the floor and wrapped the silent child up in my arms.

"Shhh you're okay, you're okay.." I whispered huskily, keeping my eyes on the girl he had come from. Blonde, thin. Must have been 17 or so.

"He didn't want to leave you, stayed by your side all yesterday." The motherly woman smiled. "Didn't mind Beth too much though, even got him to smile once."

The blonde girl, Beth, blushed. I nodded to her. This people seemed kind enough, and I took a moment to take in my surroundings over Sawyers head.

We were in what I assumed could only be a cell block. The room was big, and there were 5 other barred doors to what I assumed were cells like the one I woke up in. A staircase lead to a second level of similar looking doorways. There was an elderly white haired man- with one leg- holding a baby? And I thought my brother was young to be surviving in such a world. Then there was the brown haired girl I had seen at the gate, and a kid wearing what looked like a sherrifs hat, who couldn't have been more than 13. All but the kid were smiling at me, all seemed happy enough.

"Im Maggie," The girl from the gate broke the silence. "This is my father Hershel, and Beth here is my sister. And you've met Carol."

Hershel spoke up " And this here is Judith. Ricks little girl."

"And I'm her brother. Carl." The boy said, hand never leaving the gun at his side. Smart kid.

"Riley." I nodded.

"Daryl said as much when he carried you up here, but he didn't know your brothers name, and we couldn't get a word out of the little guy. How old is he?" Beth asked, cocking her blonde head to the side.

"Sawyer. 4." He must be 4 by now… I picked him up and cautiously backed up to a bench along the wall, where he settled onto my lap. Dirt smeared face not quite as fearful as I had remembered. I didnt know these people, but they seemed safe enough. If they had wanted me dead, they had their chance, and they had been kind to Sawyer, to us both.

"Your packs by the bunk there. Rick has your knife, but he'll give it back as soon as he asks you a few questions." Carol said softly.

I nodded again. I didn't like being unarmed, I felt almost naked. But I understood. I was a stranger, and strangers were more often than not the difference between life and death in this world.

They didn't pry, which I appreciated. Didn't ask where I came from or who I was with, they kept their word on waiting for Rick. Maggie brought me a bowl of canned soup, and one for Sawyer as well. I ate in silence as they carried on with their various tasks, planning out runs on maps and taking care of the baby. All but Carl, who sat watching me with his hand still on his gun. It seemed strange here, too relaxed almost behind these walls. I wondered how many people they had. And whether this sanctuary was all that it seemed.

Must have been two hours later when the barred door at one end of the cell block opened and Rick walked in, followed closely by Daryl and the smaller, asian boy I had seen before.

Then came the questions. I answered as best I could, Sawyer on my lap as the group listened in. Rick asked more or less what I expected him to, where I was from, what group I was with, If I knew this so called "governor" and if anyone knew where I was, if anyone was looking for me.

"Your last group." Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before returning his hard gaze to me. He spoke slowly, his southern accent low and threatening. "You said you left them a week ago. Why?"

"They were a bad group."

"Everyone here's done things. So have you."

My eyes flicked to Daryl, leaning against the wall near the main door, head hunched.

"Like I said before, the things I've done needed doing."

"How do you suppose we trust you? You killed to get out on your own, who's to say you wont do that again."

"For starters, your women are walking free and I see no bruises on em." I gestured to the people behind him. Beth seemed to flinch at my words, looking shocked. "You've taken us in, and you seem to have a certain level of decency about you, Rick." I shifted Sawyer to my other knee as he watched Rick wide eyed. "As long as you let us leave when I ask it, then I don't think it'll be a problem." I paused, then added "I'll earn my keep, I'll work for the both of us. If I don't work hard enough for you, we'll leave, no fuss. But I doubt that will be necessary."

Some sales pitch, but we needed this place. I needed it for him.

Rick looked hard at me, then reached for his holster. I stiffened, but he didn't go for his gun. Instead he held something out to me. My knife. Relief flooded through me. I let out my breath and smiled.

"Thank you."

…

I stood in the doorway of the cell I had woken up in, watching Sawyer's sleeping form on the narrow bunk. The moonlight filtered in through the tall barred windows, lighting up his face, one small hand opening and closing slowly. Whatever he was dreaming of, I hoped it was happy. Poor Beth had spent a good deal of the evening trying to get a single word out of him, and I wished she had. I almost couldn't remember what his voice sounded like. The fact that I had managed to keep him alive was a miracle in itself, but its what I would continue to do. I wasn't going to let my guard down, not for one second, no matter how comfortable we got here.

I ran my hand through my choppy dark blonde hair, my fingers snagging on tangles. The others, they seemed nice. They had been through hell and back, that much was clear, but it hadn't seemed to change them in ways I had seen others go. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, Daryl, Hershel, Judith, Carl, Rick, I counted them off in my head. A small group.

"You doin alright?"

I turned from my thoughts and saw Daryl standing in front of me, his crossbow still at his side. He didn't say much, I had noticed that with the others, but they respected him, that was easy to tell. He was younger than I first thought, maybe early thirties under all his roughness.

"Yeah."

" 'nd him? tough kid." He nodded over my shoulder to where Sawyer was sleeping.

"He's alright," I hesitated, "I should thank you."

Daryl shook his head. "Don't. Didn't do nothin." and with that he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**_6 days later_**

I was at the table in the main room, sorting through cans from the latest run. The second one since we arrived, and a good haul. Rick had gone with Daryl and Glenn, and I was glad to do something. Kept my mind off of the world. Maggie was beside me, scribbling routes to nearby towns over the new maps they had brought.

Movement from where Sawyer was sitting caught my eye. I had given him a red plastic cup, and he had been sitting there for almost an hour, turning it back and forth in his childish hands. Blond hair swept over his eyes. Never making a sound.

I watched as Daryl approached him. He hadn't said much to me since the day I woke up, not that I cared. I didn't think he liked being inside, he was more often on watch when he wasn't hunting. Squirrels were his specialty, it seemed, although you wouldn't catch me complaining.

Sawyer didn't look up at his ragged visitor. Kept his focus on the plastic cup as he turned it around and around. I saw Daryl rummage into his pocket before pulling something out and setting on the ground in front of him. A little toy firetruck. He must have picked it up on his run.

Sawyer stared at it, sneaking a cautious look at the giver of his gift before reaching out and pushing it with a single finger over the concrete floor.

Daryl turned towards the table and I ducked my head to hide the almost-smile I didn't know was there, focusing on sorting the food into rations. And then he was gone again, out the door with his bow over his back. I couldn't figure him out, but he was good. I trusted him, although I didn't know why.


	4. Chapter 4

**1 month later**

 **Riley and Sawyer have settled in to prison life with the group. They've learned to trust each** **other, and when supplies run low Riley offers up information: A hidden cache belonging to her old group, which might just still be there. With the governor posing as a potential threat, food and ammunition low, and Maggie with a twisted ankle, the group is not at its best. Daryl offers to go get the supplies alone, but Riley knows she can help.**

"I'm going with him."

The group all looked at me, shocked faces lit up by the firelight coming from the little cooking stove we had in the main cell. Daryl swore.

"No." Ricks voice was stern. "Riley, you have to stay."

"Like hell!" I stuck out my chin. "You said it yourself, I'm the only one who knows what we're looking for. A maps nothing but a map. Im going."

"She's right." Hershel sighed.

"I aint babysitting your ass, blondie!" I winced at the nickname as Daryl paced a full circle, dark hair hanging in front of his eyes as he pointed his thumb at Sawyer who was sitting beside Glenn. "Who's gonna watch your bro while your gone?"

"He's in fine hands here Daryl! And I can handle myself. Was doing just fine for a long while before you found us!" I scoffed. Was that what he thought of me? A helpless nanny?! I was sick of that shit.

I turned to Rick. "You cant risk anyone else leaving this place. You know that."

He sighed and rubbed his head. He looked tired, more tired than I had seen him in a long time.

"Fine. But if i had it my way no one would be going anywhere."

"If we had it our way we wouldn't be in this mess." was Carols response.

…..

Daryl drove as I stared out the window, watching the trees fly by in a blur. There was no speed limit at the end of the world.

A walker in a bright pink vest reached out to us as we passed, jaws silently snapping as we left it in the dust. I could still remember the first time id seen one. It had been wandering down our street, I had locked the door and watched it out of the front window. I just thought the man had been high.

"That aint a toy ya know."

I turned to look at Daryl, who continued to stare straight ahead, and I let my gaze drop to the handgun on my lap that Rick had given me. I sighed internally. Lord forbid a girl knew how to use a gun.

"Ive killed people, Daryl. Same as you. With a lot less than this _SIG Sauer P two twenty-eight_." I didn't try to mask the sass in my voice as I waved the gun between my thumb and middle finger.

Yeah I knew stuff, but truth was I hadn't had to use a gun in a long time. I'm sure I was more than a little rusty, but he didn't need to know that.

"Sorry." He grumbled, still not looking at me. "just figured."

"Nah its alright. You haven't really seen me shoot."

He shook his head. "You kept that boy alive out here. Without a gun. That says something."

"Guess so." I squinted in the distance of the highway stretched out in front of us. something was blocking the road. "You see that?"

"Yeah."

It didn't take long for us to reach it. The tree had fallen over both lanes, resulting in a mess of broken branches and pine needles.

"Fuck." Daryl turned the key and the engine rumbled to a stop. "Guess we're on foot from here."

"Town should be around the next bend, Well pick up a car once were there." I opened the door and stepped out, shoving my gun in the waistband of my jeans.

…..

We trudged silently along the street. It was quiet. No walkers in sight, unusual for a town. I felt uneasy, keeping a grip on the hunting knife at my side as well as my handgun. My eyes searched the street, over the stores and broken glass. Everything here had been looted a long time ago. But we were getting closer, the spot should be a few streets down.

Daryl made for a red minivan parked beside a hardware store. He tried the door and it opened easily, and immediately went to work on the wires under the steering wheel.

"I never took you for a soccer mom." I leaned against the dusty side, keeping watch.

"They start easy."

"Mhmm." I pulled out my gun and checked the chamber for a third time. As if it somehow would stop my feeling that something bad was going to happen.

My thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of a laugh. I jerked my head up, listening. Voices. Coming from somewhere down the street.

"Daryl." I hissed, nudging his leg with my boot. "Stop."

He was out in a moment, crossbow at the ready, listening. There it was again, the sound of mens voices and crude laughter.

"Go." He motioned to the hardware store, but I was already sliding through the broken glass.

A walker groaned from the shadows in the back, and made its way towards me. Flesh hanging off of its rotting face.

"Like a Devil's sick of sin." I muttered, quoting what had been my Dad's favourite poem. He always had a thing for war poems, and Owen had been his favourite.

I moved toward it, drawing my knife, and stabbed it through the eye as it snapped at me. The moaning ceased immediately as it went limp, and I grabbed it by the front of its shirt, trying to stop the noise of its fall as best I could.

Daryl followed and together we crouched behind a row of shelves, close enough to listen if we had to, far enough to run if need be.

…..

The voices had seemed to have gone. But we waited. I sat with my back against the shelves, looking at what hadn't been looted. The shelf in front of me had been full of art supplies. Sketching supplies to be exact. Sticks of charcoal and graphite. Smudgers. Sketchbooks in all shapes and sizes. Covered in dust and thrown about the floor. Before all this, I would have been enraptured by them. Probably buy that moleskin without so much as a thought.

I picked up a charcoal pencil pack that lay on top of the mess, and turned it over absentmindedly in my hand. Daryl's voice jerked me out of my memories.

"Just take it." He was watching me out of the corner of his eye, an disapproving tone to his voice.

In response I tossed it back in the pile. "Useless junk." I rubbed my eyes and sighed. "I'll think about it when the world stops being a such a bag of shit"

He scoffed. "Useless is right"

I groaned and stood, brushing off the seat of my pants. "C'mon. Lets get back to your minivan."

Drawing my gun I cautiously began my way to front of the store. I couldn't hear Daryl following. "Cmon, They're gone. What are you - scared?"

"Riley." His voice was low with warning.

I turned back, fully ready to make another soccer mom comment, but my voice stopped in my throat as I saw a man pressing a gun to Daryls temple. A second had one pointed at me.

 _Shit._


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi lovely readers! Thanks again for all the follows, faves, and reviews, means a lot as this is my first ever fic :)**

 **So this scene is as if Riley and Daryl were captured by the Governor's men instead of Glenn and Maggie. Merle isn't a part of it just yet, as I don't think the Governor would trust him to interrogate his own brother… but we'll see how that plays out down the road a ways.**

 **Starts off from when (Maggie, but Riley in this case) is being questioned by the governor. I hope you like it!**

* * *

"Stand up." The Governor's voice was low. Calm.

I didn't move.

"I said," He leaned forward in his chair and his demand became a growl. "Stand. Up."

I hesitated, but as he made to move toward me, I did stand. Glaring at him with every bit of the hatred I possessed.

"Take off your shirt."

"No." I tried sound unafraid. It didn't work as well as I'd hoped.

He sighed and passed a hand through his hair. "You can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either you take off your shirt for me, like the good girl I know you are. Or I bring Daryl's hand in here." His eyes turned cold. "And I force it off of you anyways."

So I took it off. And when he asked for my bra I took that off too. Unclasping it and dropping it to the floor behind me, as my loathing for him grew even stronger than I thought possible.

"Go to hell." I spat out from between clenched teeth. My arms were folded over my chest, hands covering my breasts, but his gaze took me in none the less. The Governor just smiled.

"Oh darling. I just might."

Never taking his eyes off me or that sick smile off of his face, he reached for his belt and undid it, sliding it off and tossing it carelessly to the ground.

 _No._

He walked around the table, stopping when he was right behind me, breathing into my hair.

 _Please no._

I held up my chin and stared straight ahead. I would not break. No matter what happened, I knew that I wouldn't give them away. I would rather die than let this man attack the place where Sawyer was. But that didn't make me any less terrified of him. My breath caught in my throat as the Governor's fingers brushed past my hair and danced over the side of my neck. Feather-light, but cold as ice.

"Shhh. Darling." He whispered to me. "You're shaking. Why don't you just tell me where they are now, like a good girl?"

I didn't respond.

 _Think of Sawyer. Just think of Sawyer. He's okay. They wont get to him._

But try as I might the memories I'd hidden so carefully were flooding back, and I felt panic creeping its way from the back of my mind. In one move the Governor's hold on my neck grew more demanding, and he slammed me down so I was bent over the table. I could feel him press himself against my jeans. A sob caught in my throat.

 _Just think of Sawyer, Riley. Just think of him._

I braced myself for what would come next. His hand was on my back, holding me down. There was nothing I could do. I was at his mercy. But Sawyer never would be. Not if I could help it.

"I aint breaking. So you do what your after." My voice sounded steady, surprising me.

But what he was after never came. Instead, he chuckled, dark and sinister, and I felt him move away from me.

"Interesting.." His voice was venom. "I think we'l try something else first, don't you?" His hand grasped my belt and he pulled me from the table, turning and pushing me ahead of him to the only door in the room.

…

The Governor hauled me roughly by the arm down the dark hallway, towards the low doorway at the end. I could hear the sound of fist on flesh coming from the other side, followed by a groan. Daryl.

He kicked the door open and pushed me through ahead of him. I stumbled into the lamp light, trying desperately to cover as much of my chest as I could. The small room was filled with men, there must have been half a dozen or so. They jeered as they saw me and I felt sick. Vulnerable. The Governor grabbed my arm again and shoved me through them, towards a crumpled figure on the floor.

"Get him up."

Two men grabbed Daryl and lifted him to his feet. He looked terrible, swaying where he stood. blood dripping from his face onto the dirt floor. One of them grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up. He was a bloody mess. His right eye was purple and swollen, but the other widened in horror when he saw me.

The reaction was instant. A sound like a roar erupted from his bloodied lips, and he fought against the men holding him, fuelled by some inhuman rage. A third man laughed and hit him in the gut, doubling him over while others held him up.

When they had him settled he was breathing hard. Pained eyes looking in desperation at me while I cowered at the Governor's side. I had to be strong. I couldn't let them think I was afraid. But I was shaking, and I couldn't seem to stop the hot tears that flowed silently and uninvited from my own eyes.

 _He barely touched you. Stop it._

"Now that we've got your attention." The Governor's breath was hot past my ear, and he jerked at my arm. A whimper escaped my lips and I cursed myself for it. "Perhaps you will be a little more compliant with our reasonable request."

Daryl gaze moved to meet the Governor's. Hatred like I had never seen was thick there. He was breathing hard, still held firmly back by the two men.

"Where. Is. Your. Camp." The Governor reached to brush a strand of hair out of my face. I shut my eyes, turned my face away."

"Let her go." Daryl growled.

In response the Governor slapped me. Hard. My hands slipped as I reached to cover my face, and the men around me jeered.

"Answer the question."

"Don't tell him, Daryl, Im alri-" I gasped as the governor drew a knife up to my cheek, tracing it over my lips. I locked eyes with Daryl. Pleading. He couldn't give them away, they'd have no chance.

Daryl looked panicked. Horrified.

The Governor moved the blade down my neck, drawing spirals with the cool steel. "Sure you want to risk that darling?" His breath was hot against my neck." There's many a lonely man here, sure they wouldn't mind a pretty little thing like you all -"

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HER."

The Governor ignored him, sliding his knife over my crossed arms and down my naked torso, slipping it under my belt. It sliced through the leather easily, and I could feel the adjust himself so he was behind me once more, holding me against him. I set my jaw and stared straight ahead, not meeting Daryl's eyes while the governor's hand roamed down my stomach, fingers slipping under the button on my jeans as his teeth grazed my neck-

"The jail!" Daryl spat, but his voice sounded almost like a sob. "The jail- back over the 39."

The Governor lifted his hand from its perverted dance.

"Thats more like it. And look at that, you get to be the hero for your little girlfriend here."

He swung me around to face him, the sickening sweetness of his breath on my face. I turned away, shaking, as he held me to him and ran his tongue over the lob of my ear and up over my eyebrow. I kept my eyes down. He chuckled at my discomfort, and when he seemed satisfied with it I was spun around and pushed into Daryl. The men let go of him and he wrapped his arms protectively around me, pulling me back against the wall. I buried my head into his bloody leather vest, arms wrapped tightly around him and cried silently. I heard footsteps receding, and then the door close, with the rattle of a chain. They were gone.

Daryl was shaking too. "Shhh" he breathed into my hair. His voice cracked under the rage he was trying to control for me. "They're gone. You're alright. You're alright."

He held me until I had calmed a little, rocking me back and forth where we stood, like a child.

"Gonna give you my shirt, okay?" he released me and painfully shrugged off the vest, and unbuttoned his ripped plaid, which he swung over my shoulders, being careful to keep his eyes on my face.

My cheeks burned and I couldn't look at him as I fumbled with the buttons. "Daryl, the others-"

"Don't. I didn't have a choice. You expect me to just sit watch- with that fucking bastard-" He trailed off, turning abruptly and paced the floor. Back and forth, back and forth.

I was silent.

…

We sat with our backs to the wall. Waiting for who knows what. Daryl had tried again and again to break down the door, but it was no use. My tears had stopped, for which I was grateful.

He shifted uncomfortably beside me. "Riley…did he.."

"No." I said firmly. "No. He barely touched me."

Daryl let out a breath and leaned his head back against the wall. "Rick, he'll see em coming. They don't know how many of us there were, - he'll hide them-"

"He's not my brother." I cut him off. I don't know why I chose to tell him, here of all places. The demons were dancing in front of my waking eyes, and I felt suffocated. Drowning in a secret I was tired of keeping.

Daryl was silent. I wondered if he already knew what I meant.

I took a deep breath. "My father was a drunk. A real piece of work, always gambling everything we had… His buddies, one day he couldn't pay them. There were 5 of them. He had nothing left. So they came one night, took him outside. I was hiding in my closet when they found me…" I trailed off. The bloody tears were coming again, stinging my eyes. "I… I was 15." I hung my head, disgusted with myself, with my own weakness.

He swore, and rubbed his eyes, leaving bloody smears over the already battered skin. After a moment he exhaled, reached out and awkwardly placed his hand over mine. His skin felt rough and calloused, knuckles split from when they took us. I waited for him to remove it quickly, I knew from our time in the prison that he wasn't one for physical contact, and I've never seen him initiate it. But he kept it there as we sat. His way of saying something for which words were hard to find.

"I wont have you feeling sorry for me." I broke the silence that hung between us and forced myself to look at his face. "I couldn't stand that."

He met my gaze and held it. His eyes had always struck me as secretive. Hiding everything away as to never see the light of day. But in this moment I could see his own hurts and painful past there, abuse that never left. He nodded.

"I know."

And we waited.


End file.
